


The Truth Beneath the Lies

by deinonychus_1



Category: Atlantis (UK TV)
Genre: Accidental Telepathy, Angst, Curses, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 11:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6608566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deinonychus_1/pseuds/deinonychus_1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Pythagoras chooses to spend the night of the festival of Aphrodite, goddess of love, with his friends rather than with Icarus, it sets in motion a chain of events that neither of them could have predicted. </p><p>Hurt, angry and insecure, Icarus is easy prey for a woman who is not all she seems, and when she offers him a solution to his relationship problems he cannot resist. However, when he told the woman, “I never know what is going on in his head,” he never expected to wake up the following morning with the ability to hear Pythagoras’ thoughts. </p><p>Icarus knows he must find a way to break the enchantment, but even if he does, will Pythagoras ever be able to trust him again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Clea2011 and celeste9 for the beta. 
> 
> Written for Small Fandom Bang. Also fills the 'telepathc trauma' square on my hurt/comfort bingo card.
> 
> Fic is set in a slightly AU early series 2, in which Icarus and Pythagoras got together much earlier, and all the business with Telemon and Ariadne never happened.
> 
> Go take a look at the artwork and fanmix made by ideare [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6614428)

Icarus bounded up the steps to Pythagoras’ little house, unable to keep the smile from his face. It had been nearly two weeks since Pythagoras had gone off on yet another secret journey with Jason and Hercules, and Icarus had spent much of that time trying not to worry. But Dione, who owned one of the herb stalls on the market and knew the two of them very well, had told him she had seen Pythagoras that very day. So apparently he was back. 

Icarus had promised himself he would be cool. He would wait, let Pythagoras sort out whatever he needed to after his absence. Icarus hoped that maybe Pythagoras would come round to find him as soon as he could. He dared to hope that Pythagoras might be as keen as he was to pick up where they had left off before he’d had to go adventuring again. 

His resolve lasted all of two hours. 

It was Hercules who answered the door, and he waved Icarus in with an expression that a less charitable man might have described as a smirk. Icarus knew Hercules well enough to know that could mean anything, though. Pythagoras glanced up from where he was wrapping a bandage around Jason’s arm. When he saw Icarus he smiled, and Icarus was sure the way his heartbeat seemed to trip had nothing to do with running up those steps a moment ago.

“Icarus,” Pythagoras greeted him, holding his gaze for another moment before turning his attention back to Jason’s arm.

“I heard you were back,” Icarus blurted, and immediately winced at the obvious eagerness in his voice. So much for being cool.

“Yes, we got back earlier. It’s good to be home.” Pythagoras tied off the bandage and stepped back from Jason. “Ease off the sword training for a few days. And get some proper rest.”

Jason muttered something, and Icarus saw the way Pythagoras frowned as he watched Jason get up and wander over to his bed and start rummaging through his things. 

Icarus didn’t know Jason very well, and on the few occasions he had seen him over the last few months, the man had always seemed to be in a bad mood. Pythagoras insisted it was not always so, and that Jason could be wonderful company when he wasn’t worrying about the queen or fighting in a tournament or generally being a great big hero, but Icarus had yet to see any evidence of it. No matter, it wasn’t Jason who he was here to see anyway.

Pythagoras gathered up the cloths and vials and bottles that were scattered on the table where he had been working and took them into his room. Icarus followed him and loitered in the doorway. 

“Will you be at the festival tonight?”

“What festival?” 

“The festival of Aphrodite. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”

“Is that today? I’d lost track while we were away.”

“So... are you coming?”

By which Icarus actually meant, was he coming out with Icarus to spend the evening together for a festival dedicated to the goddess of love herself, so they could maybe work on taking things a little bit further than just kissing and snuggling? But he had a suspicious feeling that Hercules was listening to them from somewhere in the room behind him, and Icarus still wasn’t one hundred percent certain whether Pythagoras had told his friends about their relationship just yet. 

Pythagoras finally stopped arranging the bottles on the shelf and turned to face Icarus properly. Icarus’ heart sank when he saw the expression on Pythagoras’ face.

“I’m sorry, Icarus. We just got back, I’ve been sleeping on the ground for the last two weeks. I was planning on having a decent meal and an early night.”

“We could just take a look round the stalls for an hour?” Icarus tried, although he had a feeling he was already fighting a losing battle.

Pythagoras came over and cupped Icarus’ face in his hands and kissed him, just the barest brush of lips. When they parted, there was regret in Pythagoras’ eyes. 

“I’m sorry. I really am. Believe me, I would like nothing more than to spend this evening with you, but I fear I’ll just fall asleep on you.”

Icarus tried to quell the rather pleasant thought of Pythagoras falling asleep in his arms, as it apparently wasn’t going to be happening tonight. This close, Icarus could see that he really did look tired. He could also see a fading bruise under one eye, and a bloody scrape on his arm. Another fight that Pythagoras would no doubt brush off as nothing important if Icarus asked. 

Icarus forced himself to smile.

“Another time, then.”

“Definitely.” 

Pythagoras offered a smile and kissed him again. This time he lingered, and his thumbs gently traced random patterns on Icarus’ cheeks. Icarus closed his eyes and savoured the sensation for as long as it lasted. Somewhere behind them, Hercules cleared his throat unnecessarily loudly, and when Pythagoras let go and Icarus opened his eyes again, Pythagoras just rolled his eyes. Hercules’ apparent lack of surprise and Pythagoras’ lack of worry suggested he _had_ told his friends about their relationship, but even that wasn’t enough to detract from the disappointment. 

“I’ll leave you in peace, then,” Icarus said. “See you tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

He caught sight of the raised eyebrow from Hercules as he left, but all he could really think about was how Pythagoras would rather spend tonight, of all nights, with his friends than with Icarus.

 

By early evening the festival was getting into full swing. The regular markets had been replaced by stalls selling food, stalls selling drinks, and the inevitable multitude of stalls selling jewellery and trinkets and love tokens and all the usual shameless cashing in that generally went with any festival. Mouth-watering aromas of hot meat and sweet pastries mingled with incense and flowers. The air was thick with the noise and smell and heat of hundreds of people enjoying themselves.

Everyone except Icarus. No matter where he looked, he couldn’t get away from the sight of couples kissing and touching and generally making a spectacle of themselves. No doubt up at the temple the priests and Queen Ariadne would have performed the appropriate rituals and sacrifices for the occasion, but for the rest of the city the festival of Aphrodite largely boiled down to an excuse for a good night out. 

A young girl tried to attract his attention from the corner of an alleyway, but Icarus shook his head and moved on. Of course, that was the other perk of the evening. For those who were not already attached there were... well, other options. In previous years Icarus had been more than willing to take the night as an opportunity for a quick fumble, a bit of no-strings fun if an attractive young man caught his eye. 

But that was before he had realised how he felt about Pythagoras. This time last year, on a lonely and desperate whim, Icarus had ended up in an alleyway with a tall wiry blond. He hadn’t got further than kissing the man before he’d had to pull away and rush off with little more than a hasty apology. It wasn’t that the man hadn’t been attractive or that Icarus hadn’t been in the mood. He just... couldn’t. That was when Icarus had known for sure that he didn’t just want _any_ man, he wanted Pythagoras. This year... well, the fact that this year he _had_ Pythagoras should have made this the perfect evening. Instead he wandered aimlessly from stall to stall, his eyes on the street because it was easier than seeing all those couples kissing and cuddling and enjoying everything that he could not. 

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!”

Icarus startled out of his thoughts and looked up at the man he had almost walked into. The apology died on his lips when he saw the three familiar figures across the road over the man’s shoulder. 

The man shoved past him with a muttered insult, but Icarus barely heard him. He was too busy staring at the way Pythagoras was laughing at something Hercules had just said, the way he was craning his neck and pointing at a stall further down the street and cajoling Jason along with them as they tried to move through the crowd. 

Icarus slipped out of the way and stood back against a wall and watched them go. So much for Pythagoras wanting to stay in and have an early night because he was tired. All of a sudden he didn’t _look_ tired. All of a sudden he looked a lot like a man who was having a great night out. With his friends. _Without_ Icarus. 

Fuck it. 

Icarus turned and shoved his way through the crowd in the opposite direction. His only thought was to get as far away as possible before Pythagoras caught sight of him. He didn’t think he could deal with that level of awkwardness, not tonight. 

Something had obviously happened while Pythagoras was away. If he had told his friends about their relationship, perhaps one of them had done something to warn him off. Icarus couldn’t see that coming from Hercules, the older man had always seemed friendly enough whenever they saw each other. So Jason, then. Jason must have said something when he found out about it. 

Or maybe, a treacherous little voice spoke up, maybe Pythagoras decided all by himself that he didn’t want to be with Icarus any more. Maybe he had decided it had all been a mistake. Maybe kissing Icarus had been nothing more than an experiment. Maybe Pythagoras had never really wanted him at all. 

His vision blurred for a moment, and Icarus was shocked to realise there were tears in his eyes. Shock was followed quickly by a flush of shame. He was not going to do this in public. He started to run, no longer making any attempt to avoid people and not caring about the angry shouts and insults that followed in his wake. 

He pushed past a group of drunken men and one of them turned and shoved him hard. Icarus stumbled and crashed into a stall at the side of the street. The table tipped up and items scattered everywhere as Icarus tumbled to the ground. 

“Sorry. I’m sorry, it was an accident.” 

Icarus was already speaking before he’d even bothered to look at the extent of the damage. He wondered if he had enough money on him to pay for what he’d broken, or if he was going to have to make a run for it. Given the way his luck seemed to be going tonight, he didn’t fancy his chances for either option.

A figure loomed over him, and Icarus looked up into the face of an old woman. 

“Well, aren’t you a sorry sight?” she commented. 

Icarus had been trying to get up, but he hesitated. He’d been expecting angry shouting, but she sounded... sympathetic?

“I’m sorry. I fell. Well, actually someone pushed me but you’re probably not interested in that, are you?”

He realised he was babbling and stopped talking before he said anything else stupid. 

The old woman actually smiled at him, and Icarus found himself staring into her pale blue eyes. She held a hand out to him. 

“You’d best get up. People are looking.”

Icarus glanced around and realised that yes, people were looking at him and the mess. So much for getting away unnoticed. He grabbed her hand and picked himself up and brushed off the remains of the flowers he seemed to have taken down with him. He looked down at the ground and saw the scattered herbs and flowers and ceramic figures and tokens, and quickly started to gather up what he could. At least the incense pot hadn’t fallen; it was still, somehow, smoking gently in the middle of the table and giving off a soothing aroma.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered again as he tried to put the old woman’s wares back on the table.

The old woman placed a hand on his wrist.

“Nothing damaged, no harm done.” She paused, and her grip tightened on his wrist. “Or perhaps something is broken after all. Someone has hurt you, haven’t they? And tonight, of all nights.”

Icarus stilled and looked up into her eyes. Such warm brown eyes, like his mother’s. He frowned for a moment and then shook the thought away. He barely remembered his mother, and any image he might have of her was more down to his imagination than any real memory. So where the hell had that thought come from?

“I... uh...”

Oh yes, very eloquent. He tried to tug his arm away, but she had a surprisingly strong grip for such an old woman.

“Come, my boy. Sit down for a minute. Let me get you a drink, you’ve had a shock, falling like that.”

Icarus opened his mouth to refuse, but instead found himself being drawn to sit down on a three legged stool in a doorway behind the stall, away from the crowds in the street. The incense was thicker here, lavender and honey and something muskier that he couldn’t place. 

“I can see it in your eyes. You’ve been hurt by some young girl, haven’t you?” She paused, and suddenly she smiled. “Or a young man, I think.”

Icarus stilled completely, his attention suddenly focussed entirely on the woman. He had an impression of old, slightly tattered, clothes, a sense of age and knowledge. He couldn’t look away from her gaze.

Icarus knew he should get up and leave, if for no other reason than he didn’t want Pythagoras or any of his friends to see him. But he couldn’t seem to bring himself to stand up and walk away. Besides, she was still holding his wrist, it would be rude to simply pull away when she was being so kind to him, especially after he had trashed her stall like that.

“What’s your name?”

“Icarus.”

“Well, Icarus, no one deserves to be hurt by their love on the night of Aphrodite’s festival. Especially not such a good-hearted soul as you seem to be.”

She finally looked away and turned to rummage around in the darkened doorway behind her, and Icarus blinked. His wrist felt cold where her hand was no longer touching him. When she turned back she was holding a cup and passed it to him. The liquid inside was dark, and the scent was rich and spicy and like no wine he had ever known. He hesitated.

“Go on,” she encouraged. “It will help with the shock, after your accident.” 

The old woman was watching him, so he took a sip. It tasted as rich as it smelled, and left a warm pleasant tingling in his mouth and throat. 

She smiled at him. 

“So, Icarus. Tell me about this man who has made you so sad tonight.”

He frowned and fiddled with the cup in his hands. It was none of her business. And the longer he stayed here, the greater the risk that Pythagoras might see him. He should just thank her and leave. In fact, that was exactly what he was going to do.

“I don’t know if he really wants me,” Icarus heard himself saying in a quiet voice. 

The old woman leaned closer, and in the glint of a nearby torch he saw a flash of metal, a polished necklace with a charm in the shape of a crescent moon, around her neck. She reached out and her long fingers closed around his hand in his lap. 

“Oh, my poor boy. You fear he doesn’t love you?”

“No, no, it’s not that. Not exactly. I know he cares for me. But I don’t... I don’t...”

Icarus stared down at the swirling dark liquid and took another drink, this time a proper mouthful. It felt so warm and comforting, why had he wanted to go home?

The old woman squeezed his hand. 

“He keeps so many secrets. And his friends... I will always be second place to his friends, no matter how much he cares for me.”

“He does not sound like a man who deserves your love if that is how he treats you.”

Icarus shook his head immediately. 

“No. No, he is a far better man than I could ever be. If anything, _he_ deserves someone better than _me_.”

“I don’t believe that for a moment, Icarus. You are such a sweet, gentle boy, so pretty. This man of yours should thank the gods that he has you.” 

She reached up with her other hand and brushed his hair away where it had fallen in front of his face. He looked up, and her dark eyes seemed to see right into his heart.

“I never know what is going on in his head. I don’t know what he wants. I don’t know how to make him happy.”

For a second there was a look in her eyes that he couldn’t place, and she smiled. Then it was gone, and Icarus looked back down at the cup in his hand. He took another drink, because it was easier than meeting the old woman’s eyes after that declaration. His vision blurred for a moment and he closed his eyes.

“I believe the fates brought you to my stall tonight, Icarus. I can help you.”

He felt her fingers gently turn his hand over palm up, and she pressed something into his open hand. He opened his eyes and looked down. There was a bracelet, just a thin leather band, but when he examined it more closely he saw swirling patterns etched into the leather, the moon and stars. He turned it over and saw that there was a small oval of what appeared to be amber embedded within it, like a gem on a ring. 

“I don’t understand. Help me? How?”

“Go to your love tonight, and give this bracelet to him. Tie it around his wrist. As long as he wears it you need never fear the things you do not know.”

“I don’t... what do you mean?” A sudden thought forced its way through the sleepy relaxing fog that seemed to have settled around his mind. “Is this magic? Is this an enchantment? Because I would neve-”

She laughed and closed his fingers around the bracelet. 

“No, Icarus, it is not an enchantment. It will not have any effect on him at all. It will not harm him. It will not make him do anything that he does not want to. This is for _you_ , Icarus. I swear it by the goddess herself.”

He stared down at his closed fist. The amber bead felt warm and solid. A thought occurred to him. 

“I am grateful to you for being so kind to me, but I cannot accept this. I do not have enough money to pay for such an item.”

Amber was by no means a particularly expensive stone for jewellery, but even so, a stone that size would almost certainly be beyond what few coins Icarus had in his money pouch tonight. He put down the cup, surprised to notice it was almost empty, and fished the money out. As he suspected, it could not possibly be enough. 

The old woman just smiled and picked up a couple of coins from his hand. 

“This will be more than enough, Icarus. Just promise that you will find your love and give this to him tonight. It must be tonight, Icarus, when the goddess’ power is at its height.”

She squeezed his hand and Icarus found himself nodding. 

“Thank you.”

He stood up and for a second the world spun around him until he blinked a couple of times. The old woman made a shooing gesture. 

“What are you waiting for? Go and find him.”

Icarus stumbled away, still a little lightheaded. By the time he looked back, he could no longer see the old woman and her stall in the crowd.

 

“Icarus!”

He turned around and was immediately engulfed in a hug. He was so startled that Pythagoras had already let go before Icarus could even get his arms around the man to return the embrace. 

“I hoped I would find you, although with these crowds it was not easy.” 

Pythagoras grinned at him, like finding Icarus was the best thing that had happened to him that day.

“I thought you didn’t want to come out?” Icarus blurted.

At that, Pythagoras looked slightly sheepish.

“I’m an idiot. Something which Hercules told me at some length almost as soon as you had walked out of the door. I _am_ tired, and sore, from our latest adventures, but I would be foolish to let that stop me from spending tonight, of all nights, with you.”

“Hercules said that?”

Icarus had to admit he was surprised that Hercules was, apparently, so actively pushing for their relationship. Or maybe Hercules just thought it was funny that Pythagoras was finally in a relationship at all. 

“Yes, Hercules said that. And he was right.” Pythagoras leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially. “But please don’t ever tell him I said that. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Icarus laughed, and Pythagoras’ smile grew even brighter.

“So, where do you want to go?” Pythagoras asked.

Icarus glanced around, suddenly wondering where Hercules and Jason were. 

“Are the others...?”

“Oh, don’t worry. I left them at a stall selling pies and wine. Hercules announced he had no desire to know the details of what we were getting up to, but I can almost guarantee he will be asking exactly that as soon as I get home.” He rolled his eyes with a look that was half exasperation and half affection, and then suddenly looked slightly embarrassed. “Details which I will not be telling him, I hasten to add.”

Icarus chuckled, and let his fingers trail down Pythagoras’ arm. 

“I’m sure you will be the height of discretion. And speaking of which, shall we get off the road and out of the way of these crowds?”

They threaded their way through the knots of people until they found a side street and slipped a little way down it away from the noise and revelry.

This was what Icarus had been daydreaming about ever since he had heard Pythagoras was back, but now they were here, in the relative quiet and away from prying eyes, he was hesitant. Their relationship was still so new, and with the abrupt and unwelcome interruption of Pythagoras’ mission just as they were getting started, Icarus wasn’t sure how far he was allowed to go just yet. 

Pythagoras apparently felt no such indecision. He turned to Icarus and with one hand he grasped the front of Icarus’ tunic and tugged him closer and kissed him, soft and gentle and undemanding at first, but with the promise of more. His other hand came up to cradle Icarus’ head and fingers tangled into his hair. 

Icarus’ eyes closed and he melted into Pythagoras’ touch. He slipped his arms around Pythagoras and held him close. The amber bracelet was still clutched in his hand, he realised, but already his conversation with the old woman seemed like a distant, and embarrassing, memory. How could he ever have doubted this? Icarus kept the bracelet hidden in his hand and returned the kiss until they both needed to breathe. 

When he opened his eyes again, Pythagoras was watching him with a soft smile. He stole another kiss before resting his forehead against Icarus’.

“I missed you,” Pythagoras said. 

“And I you,” Icarus said instantly. “I was worried about you. I always worry when you disappear on these missions and adventures.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“Are you alright? You said before that you were hurt?”

Pythagoras shook his head. 

“I said I was sore, that’s not entirely the same thing. And it’s mostly just from sleeping on the ground and a few bumps and bruises.”

Icarus’ expression must have betrayed his disbelief because Pythagoras sighed.

“Yes, I did get a few new cuts and scrapes from a fight or two, but honestly, I am fine. Jason was injured far more than I was.”

“And was it worth it?”

Pythagoras looked confused for a moment. 

“The mission?” Icarus prompted. “Did you succeed in... whatever it was you were doing?”

“Yes. Well, more or less.”

Icarus waited to see if he would elaborate, but it quickly became apparent that nothing more would be forthcoming. Icarus felt a flash of annoyance. Why the secrecy? Especially now that he was back and the job was done? 

“Hey,” Pythagoras said, and kissed him again. 

Icarus let himself be kissed, and savoured the sensation of Pythagoras’ touch, the feel of his fingers gently caressing the back of his head and playing with his curls. No matter how nice it felt, though, it couldn’t quell the uneasy feeling that he was being deliberately kept in the dark. The feeling that Pythagoras didn’t trust him.

Pythagoras seemed to sense his mood and pulled back a little.

“Was that an attempt to distract me from worrying?” Icarus said, trying to keep his tone light.

The edge of Pythagoras’ mouth turned up in a hint of a smile. 

“Possibly. Did it work?”

In spite of himself, Icarus chuckled and returned the smile.

“Perhaps a little.”

Pythagoras let go of his tunic and brought his hand up so that his thumb could stroke Icarus’ face. Pythagoras held his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” Pythagoras said eventually. “I just don’t want to talk about that right now. Not when there are far better things we could be doing.”

Icarus had spent a great deal of time over the last several months imagining all sorts of activities that might fall under the category of ‘much better things’, but right at that moment all he could think about was the blatant deflection. 

The amber bead still felt solid in his hand. He suddenly couldn’t look Pythagoras in the eye any longer and let his gaze drop to the ground. He wasn’t sure he even believed the old woman and her cryptic promises, but her words kept swirling around in his head and Icarus knew that he _did_ fear the things he did not know. The secrets, the implied lack of trust, the constant feeling that Pythagoras did not really feel the same way about him.

He looked up again and forced a smile.

“I got you something.”

Pythagoras frowned in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

Icarus let go and stepped back, and Pythagoras let go of his face. 

“I got you a present. Just a silly little thing. Hold out your hand.”

Pythagoras did, and Icarus quickly tied the leather band around his wrist before he had second thoughts. 

“I thought the amber would suit you. It goes with blue. An-”

He was saved from saying anything else that might be considered mortifyingly girly by Pythagoras suddenly pouncing on him and kissing him thoroughly. 

“Thank you, Icarus. It’s perfect. Thank you.”

Whatever resentment he might have felt before, Icarus couldn’t help the excited thrill at seeing such undisguised joy and enthusiasm on Pythagoras’ face. 

He wasn’t sure what he expected, but apart from both of them suddenly seeming a great deal happier there was no noticeable change. Of course the old woman had been making it all up. It took Icarus a moment to realise that he actually felt relieved about that, and suddenly all his anger seemed to slip away.

He noticed he was still holding Pythagoras’ wrist in his hands, and had been absently stroking the soft skin just above where the bracelet encircled his arm.

“I’m afraid my purse will not stretch to buying you anything so beautiful in return,” Pythagoras said.

Icarus looked up and immediately wanted to banish the regret and embarrassment he could see in Pythagoras’ eyes.

“If your purse will stretch to a warm sweet pastry then as far as I am concerned we are even.”

Right on cue, his stomach rumbled, and Pythagoras laughed before stealing another kiss. 

“I can definitely manage a pastry. Possibly even two.”

“Then let’s go, before Hercules eats all the best ones.”

 

“Shhhh! You’ll wake my father.”

Icarus somehow managed to get the door to his house closed while propping Pythagoras upright with his free arm. It was dark inside, which was at least a good sign that Daedalus had already gone to bed, but Icarus knew from experience how often Daedalus had been waiting with a raised eyebrow when he had come home late. 

There was a thought in the back of Icarus’ mind that he should probably have taken Pythagoras to his own home, but Icarus’ home was nearer, and Pythagoras was heavier than he looked. And okay, yes, perhaps the thought of getting Pythagoras into his bed had been too tempting to pass up, even though Icarus was fairly certain his friend was in no state to get up to anything that they might have imagined taking place in Icarus’ bed. 

Pythagoras giggled and then slapped a hand over his mouth.

“If I’d known how little it took to get you drunk I would not have bought that second flagon of wine.”

It was a little difficult to tell in the half darkness of the house, but Icarus was fairly sure Pythagoras pouted at him.

“I’m not drunk.”

“Right. Whatever you say.”

Icarus managed to get Pythagoras’ arm across his shoulders and supported him upstairs until they got into Icarus’ bedroom. He deposited Pythagoras onto the bed, and Pythagoras immediately flopped back and lay there, watching him in the half darkness.

Icarus lit a candle so he could see properly, and then smiled down at Pythagoras.

“Definitely less wine next time,” Icarus decided. 

“I was having a good time,” Pythagoras said, still looking slightly pouty. 

He held a hand up to Icarus, and Icarus tugged him back upright. Pythagoras wrapped both arms around Icarus’ waist and burrowed his face into Icarus’ chest, nuzzling and making contented noises. Icarus felt a bemused smile forming and held Pythagoras and stroked his hair. 

“You are very cuddly when you are drunk.”

“Mmmmmmnnnnn,” Pythagoras said. If there had been any actual words in that, they were completely muffled by his face still being pressed against Icarus’ tunic.

Icarus just chuckled and let him cuddle a little longer before extricating himself so he could take off his shoes and tunic. Pythagoras was still trying to undo his belt by the time Icarus was done, and Icarus helped him undress as far as his trousers and tunic, and then manoeuvred Pythagoras into his bed and lay down next to him.

Pythagoras turned to look at him, and the look in his eyes was almost enough to break Icarus’ resolve. 

“I appear to be in your bed,” Pythagoras observed. It sounded like he was slightly surprised by that fact. 

Icarus turned onto his side so he could watch Pythagoras.

“Yes, this is my bed.”

“And you have no shirt on.”

Icarus chuckled again. 

“Again, yes. You’re a very observant drunk.”

Pythagoras attempted to turn onto his side but gave up after the third try and just flopped back onto his back.

“I’ve had thoughts about this. About being in your bed. About you being half naked.”

Icarus reached out and let his fingers absently play on Pythagoras’ chest, and really wished that he hadn’t bought the extra wine.

“You’ve had thoughts, have you? And what sort of things happened in these thoughts of yours?”

Pythagoras’ gaze flickered down to Icarus’ mouth and back again. 

“I... we were touching each other. All over. And I... I was on top of you and I kissed you... all down your chest... and, and lower.”

Just the mental image of Pythagoras’ fantasy was making Icarus’ cock take notice, and he had to close his eyes and try to quell the response.

“Icarus?”

He felt a feather light touch on his chest and opened his eyes. He took hold Pythagoras’ hand and entwined their fingers.

“That sounds like a most excellent plan. And I intend to hold you to it one day. But not tonight.”

Pythagoras’ look of surprised disappointment was almost enough to make Icarus relent.

“Why not?”

“Because you are drunk, my love. And that means that you will not be fully in control of what you are doing, and it also means that you may not remember this in the morning. And trust me, Pythagoras; I want to make it very, _very_ memorable for you.”

The smile that Pythagoras gave him was one of the most adorably beautiful expressions Icarus had ever seen on his face, and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning across and kissing him. Pythagoras wriggled against him until Icarus wrapped his arm around Pythagoras and settled down beside him.

Pythagoras nuzzled at him.

“You’re pretty,” Pythagoras said. 

Icarus just tugged him closer.

“Go to sleep, Pythagoras.”

There was some more wriggling until he eventually settled, and soon the rhythm of his breathing told Icarus he was finally asleep.

It was not the way he had imagined their first night together, but Pythagoras was here, in his arms, and Pythagoras wanted this, wanted _him_. Icarus lay there enjoying the moment, the feel of having Pythagoras in his arms, the soft warmth and the sharp, bony angles, and thought he could get very used to being this happy.

 

“Ow!”

Icarus propped himself up on one elbow and watched Pythagoras finally wake up. Icarus had been awake for maybe half an hour already, and had simply lain there, watching Pythagoras sleep, savouring the knowledge that Pythagoras was _in his bed_. And, he had to admit, taking the opportunity to just look without fear of being caught and causing embarrassment. In sleep, his face was relaxed and calm in a way it never seemed to be when he was awake; Pythagoras was constantly worrying or excited or concentrating on something important whenever Icarus saw him. Seeing him like this was... nice. Icarus wanted to see him like this far more often.

Pythagoras’ face scrunched up a little, and he curled in on himself even more. 

“Good morning,” Icarus said quietly. 

Pythagoras froze. After a moment, one eye opened and he peered at Icarus.

“Morning?”

Icarus chuckled at the obvious bewilderment, and leaned forwards and dropped a quick kiss on the end of his nose.

“Yes, it’s morning. Yes, you are in my bed. And yes, that is almost certainly an almighty hangover you have right now.”

“Uuuuuh.” Pythagoras closed his eye again, but Icarus saw his cheeks colour a little.

“I hope that’s a reaction to the hangover, and not to waking up beside me?” Icarus said, at least 98 percent certain he was joking.

At that, Pythagoras opened his eyes properly and gave Icarus a sheepish smile.

“Sorry. This was not how I imagined waking up with you for the first time.”

“Oh? And what exactly was it that you imagined doing on waking up in my bed?” Icarus suspected he had a rather mischievous smirk on his face, but he couldn’t help it. Pythagoras like this, relaxed, with his guard down, was even more adorable than he could ever have dreamed.

“I’m not entirely sure, but I think there was more snuggling involved.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged.”

Icarus squirmed closer and slipped one arm around Pythagoras’ waist, and moved in for another kiss. This time Pythagoras’ lips met his and Icarus’ eyes slid closed.

_-mmmmm this is nice it would be so much better if my head didn’t feel like it was going to explode how can this be pleasurable why does Hercules keep getting drunk if this is what it feels like the next day every time? oh... oh that is very nice keep doing that thing with your tongue yeah like tha-_

Icarus pulled back and stared at Pythagoras. How the hell was he saying any of that when they were kissing?

_-why has the kissing stopped? come back that was really nice I was enjoying that ow my head hurts so much why is the light so bright doesn’t he have any curtains in his room? I should buy him curtains if we are going to sleep here more often or maybe I could ask him to sleep at mine instead or maybe not Jason and Hercules would take the piss too much maybe that’s not such a good idea why does his window have to let the morning light in like that? and I don’t think that window is straight that is definitely not a right angle he lives with the most brilliant engineer in the whole of the city how can he not have geometrically accurate windows? why is he looking at me like that? why has the kissing stopped? what have I done wrong? he was the one who started kissing me first I thought that’s what he want-_

It was Pythagoras’ voice, but Pythagoras wasn’t moving his mouth. He wasn’t speaking. And yet Icarus could hear his voice, quiet and strangely echoing, but definitely Pythagoras’ voice. 

“How are you doing that?” Icarus blurted.

_-ed what does he mean doing what that makes no sense I’m not doing anything-_

“Doing what?” Pythagoras asked, his expression one of honest confusion.

_-why is he looking at me like that what have I done wrong this time can’t we just spend time together without him asking all these questions that I can’t answer? oh for the love of the gods I need a bloody tonic for this headache I hope Hercules hasn’t drunk it all when I get hom-_

Icarus let go of Pythagoras and moved back, staring at him. The voice immediately went silent. 

What the fuck was going on?

“Icarus? What is it? What’s wrong? Are you all right?” There was nothing but worry and concern in his expression now.

Pythagoras reached for him, his fingers tentatively touched Icarus’ bare chest.

_-s is getting scary now what’s wrong why is he staring at me? I can’t deal with this shit right now why the hell can’t we just go back to kissing that was nice why do I have to take care of bloody everybody all the time I have enough with Hercules and Jason I can’t do this with Icarus as well not right now I just want my head to stop hurting and maybe sleep some more oh gods this was supposed to be perfect why couldn’t it be like it was in my head all those times why can’t it just be bloody simple for once I just want him to hold me and it’s all going wrong and I have no fucking clue how to do this why is he staring at me like I’ve gone insa-_

“Icarus, please, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”

_-ne please just talk to me Icarus tell me what the hell I’ve done wrong because I don’t understand what’s happening right no-_

Icarus couldn’t listen to that any more. He dived forwards and held Pythagoras’ face in his hands and kissed him. He had intended it to be gentle but Pythagoras apparently had other ideas and Icarus found himself being pulled close, _closer_ , as Pythagoras held him and kissed him and the voice in Icarus’ head suddenly became utterly preoccupied with the kiss and the sensations and when Pythagoras pressed even closer the voice stuttered into broken half formed words that made no sense.

He could hear Pythagoras’ thoughts.

The realisation was enough to startle Icarus out of the kiss, but Pythagoras was still holding him and seemed reluctant to let go. Before the voice in his head could regroup and start complaining again, Icarus resumed the kiss. He couldn’t help wondering exactly what ‘that thing with his tongue’ was that Pythagoras had been thinking about earlier but right then all he could really concentrate on was the fact that _he could hear Pythagoras’ thoughts_. 

It was strange. And it was wrong. 

Icarus pulled back, pressed one more gentle kiss to his lips, and then extracted himself from the bed and stood up with as much dignity as he could manage. As soon as he was out of bed the voice was gone, silent at last. That was... good. Probably. 

Pythagoras was watching him with that look of bewildered hurt again. He was probably wondering what he had done wrong, again, Icarus thought to himself. He shoved that thought away and forced himself to smile.

“It’s late. Much as I would like to continue with this, my father will probably come and interrupt us before long, and I’m not sure we want him to find us like this.”

Actually, embarrassment factor aside, Icarus had a feeling that his father wouldn’t have the slightest problem with finding Pythagoras in his bed, but right then all Icarus could think was that he needed to get away from Pythagoras until he could sort out what the hell was going on. 

Pythagoras nodded, then winced, and very slowly sat up and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Icarus passed him his belt and shoes, trying to keep actual physical contact to a minimum. Icarus put on his own tunic, and glanced up to see Pythagoras watching him with a half smile.

“Shame, I was enjoying the view,” Pythagoras said. 

Icarus forced himself to smile. 

“I’m sure there will be plenty more opportunities.”

“I hope so.”

Pythagoras stood up and before Icarus could get to the door Pythagoras grabbed his wrist and tugged him back into another kiss.

_-so gorgeous what did I do to deserve this man? why did I drink so much last night what the hell was I thinking I could have been having sex with him and instead I have a hangover and he can’t wait to get rid of me because I made such a bloody idiot of mysel-_

“There will _definitely_ be more opportunities,” Icarus said, unable to listen to Pythagoras’ self-doubt any longer. “For this, and for much more. I promise. But right now I think you need to go home and sort out that hangover.”

Pythagoras’ smile was the reassurance he needed. Icarus deliberately let go and made sure he was a few steps ahead of Pythagoras as they went down the stairs and through the workshop. 

Of course, it wasn’t going to be that easy.

“Morning,” Daedalus said loudly when they had almost made it to the door. 

Icarus cringed. 

“Morning, Father.”

He turned around. Daedalus was just watching them with a smirk and a definite twinkle in his eye.

“Good morning, Daedalus,” Pythagoras said, somehow sounding far less guilty than Icarus had.

“Going by the rumpled state of your clothes I’m going to assume a good night was had and ask no further questions,” Daedalus said, still smirking. “But why the hurry? Stay for breakfast, Pythagoras.”

“Father!” Icarus hissed. He was fairly certain he couldn’t have gone any redder in the face if he was on fire. He didn’t even dare to look at Pythagoras. 

“Thank you, but I’m afraid I ought to be going,” Pythagoras said, still, somehow, sounding far more relaxed than Icarus about the situation. “Hercules is going to wonder where I’ve got to if I don’t make an appearance soon.”

“Another time, then,” Daedalus said. His tone clearly indicated that he expected this to become a regular occurrence, and that they would not be able to get away from him so easily next time.

Icarus herded Pythagoras to the door as fast as he could before Daedalus had chance to embarrass him any further.

“Sorry,” Icarus muttered.

Pythagoras actually chuckled, and then winced again. 

“Don’t worry. He was probably going to find out sooner or later.”

“Yes, but he’s going to be unbearable for the rest of the day.”

“It could be worse. You could have to deal with Hercules.” Pythagoras pulled that familiar face that he often got when talking about his friend, part exasperation and part affection. 

Pythagoras hugged him, mercifully briefly, and all Icarus heard was scattered thoughts about tonics and Hercules and the need for more sleep, before Pythagoras let go and left the house.

Icarus shut the door and leaned against it and closed his eyes.

Oh, fuck.


	2. part 2

Icarus normally enjoyed breakfast, or, for that matter, any meal, but today he wolfed it down as quickly as physically possible. It didn’t help that while he was eating he had to sit there listening to his father making increasingly embarrassing and inappropriate comments, while smirking at him with a knowing look. 

As Icarus had suspected, Daedalus didn’t appear to have a problem with his relationship with Pythagoras, but then, Daedalus had always liked Pythagoras a great deal. And more to the point, the fact that Daedalus was joking about it was probably the best sign Icarus was going to get that he approved. On any other day, Icarus might have taken the jokes in good humour, but not today. Not when, with every passing moment, Icarus was becoming more and more certain that he may have done something rather stupid.

It was a relief when he could finally escape the dinner table and get back to his room to think.

He could hear Pythagoras’ thoughts. 

It was impossible, and yet that was the only conclusion he could come to about what he had experienced that morning. True, it only appeared to happen if they were in direct physical contact with each other, but that was beside the point. 

First question - how? 

Something had happened overnight, because this certainly hadn’t been happening when they collapsed into bed last night. Pythagoras hadn’t given any indication that he could hear Icarus’ thoughts, or that anything was out of the ordinary as far as he was concerned, so apparently it only worked one way. 

Actually, that presented another question: Was it just Pythagoras, or could he hear everyone’s thoughts? Icarus tried to think if he had happened to come into physical contact with Daedalus over breakfast, but nothing came to mind, and he certainly hadn’t heard anything odd. Still, that would need to be tested, and sooner rather than later. 

But if it _was_ just Pythagoras, well, the only thing that had happened last night was the festival, and lots of eating and drinking and... And a strange old woman with an amber bracelet.

Icarus closed his eyes and banged his head against the door. No. No, surely not? 

He tried to think about everything that happened with the old woman. She had been kind, he remembered that. She had friendly brown eyes, and the drink had been warm and spicy and he had... brown eyes? Didn’t she have blue eyes? Icarus screwed his eyes shut and tried to focus on his memories of the old woman. Every time he thought he had an image of her in his mind, it became confused and fuzzy, and all he could think of was the warm, soothing taste of the drink. How safe and comfortable it made him feel. 

She had promised him the bracelet would not harm Pythagoras. She had sworn it! What exactly was it she had said? Something about not fearing what he didn’t know? What did that even mean?

_I never know what’s going on in his head._

“Oh, fuck.” 

Icarus banged his head against the door again. How the hell had he been so bloody stupid? The old woman had been a witch, she had fed him a potion that dulled his wits or made him more susceptible to suggestion or something, and he had poured his heart out to a complete stranger (who happened to be a witch), and then she had given him exactly what he had, however unknowingly, asked for. 

And then he had given Pythagoras a cursed bracelet.

“Shit, shit, _shit!_ ”

Pythagoras was going to kill him. Unless Hercules or Jason found out and got to him first. Or possibly even Daedalus (well, Daedalus probably wouldn’t actually kill him, but he might disown him, which was just as bad).

He had to fix this, and preferably in a way that involved as few people as possible finding out. Especially Pythagoras. 

Icarus took a couple of deep breaths. Then he headed out into the city. 

 

The old woman had gone. Truthfully, it wasn’t as if Icarus had expected anything else, but just for once it might have been nice if he could have had some good luck in his life. It had actually taken a while to find the right spot where her stall had been, because everything looked so much different in the dark and the crowds, and most of the stalls had not been the regular market traders, they were only there for the festival. 

Icarus kicked around the street, looking for... he wasn’t even sure what. The street was littered with the remains of the festival; dropped food and spilled drinks, the occasional piece of broken pot, flowers, scraps of paper. There was nothing to tell him that the old woman had ever been here.

Icarus knew he was clutching at increasingly desperate straws, but his feet took him to the main gate that led down to the port, and he found himself a spot from which he could watch the people streaming out of the city and back to their ships. There were other gates, of course, and if the woman had arrived by land she might well be leaving by one of those instead, but Icarus couldn’t watch them all, and, statistically, this was the best option.

While he was there, Icarus tested out one of his other ideas, and purposely bumped into several people, grabbing their arm wherever possible. Apart from several angry insults and warnings to watch where he was going, Icarus heard nothing out of the ordinary. 

So that answered one question, at least. He couldn’t hear everyone’s thoughts. Just Pythagoras’. He wasn’t sure whether that made it better or worse. If this had been something the witch had done to him, then he could have gone to Pythagoras and explained it and Pythagoras would almost certainly help him to sort it out. But the fact that it was just Pythagoras meant that it had to be the bracelet, and that meant that it was Icarus’ fault for giving it to him in the first place, and he wasn’t sure how Pythagoras would feel about that.

That was when something occurred to Icarus. If it was the bracelet, might that mean that it wasn’t just him who could hear Pythagoras’ thoughts? What if _everyone_ who touched him could? 

Several thoughts hit Icarus all at once. If other people could hear his thoughts now then Pythagoras might already know about it. He might not know why it was happening, but it wouldn’t take long for him to work it out. More importantly, Pythagoras was a trusted operative of the queen. If enemies of the city were to find out that someone in the queen’s inner circle was broadcasting their thoughts to anyone who got close, it would put Pythagoras in danger. 

He had to tell him.

Icarus hopped down from the wall he had been sitting on, cast one last glance at the city gate, and then headed for Pythagoras’ house. 

What was going to be the best way to approach this? Truthfully, Icarus still wasn’t entirely certain what ‘this’ actually was, or how it was happening. It was only a guess that it was the bracelet. He could hint around it, test the waters to see if Jason or Hercules had noticed anything strange. Considering how tactile Pythagoras normally was with his friends, Icarus was pretty certain they would have come into physical contact with him by now. 

Or maybe it might be better to just come straight out with it. Admit what had happened, tell Pythagoras everything (or, at least, as near to everything as he could get away with, perhaps without admitting exactly what he had told the witch), and enlist their help to sort it out. Yes, it was going to be uncomfortable, but it had been a genuine mistake, surely they would see that? It wasn’t his fault the old woman had given him a cursed item!

He still hadn’t decided what he was going to say when he trudged up the stairs and knocked on the door. It opened a few moments later and Hercules looked at him, and then put his finger to his lips and beckoned him in.

The reason for the strange greeting became obvious as soon as Icarus was inside. Hercules waved in the direction of Pythagoras’ room.

“He’s still sleeping off the hangover,” Hercules explained. “Just how much did you give him to drink last night?”

“Not that much,” Icarus protested quietly. “I didn’t know he’d get drunk on so little.”

Hercules rolled his eyes. “He’s a complete bloody lightweight. It’s embarrassing.”

Hercules wandered off to the balcony room, and after one last glance towards the sleeping shape of Pythagoras, Icarus followed Hercules. 

Jason was sitting in the other room, leaning on the window and gazing out into the city. Icarus paused in the doorway. He had spoken to these two men in passing a few times, Hercules more often than Jason, but never without Pythagoras being present. All his plans for how to broach the subject of whether or not they could hear their friend’s thoughts skittered out of his mind. 

“Stop loitering in the doorway and get in here. We won’t bite,” Hercules said. 

That wasn’t exactly the reassurance Icarus had been hoping for, but he moved into the room and sat down at the table.

“So, you and Pythagoras finally stopped gazing at each other like lovesick women and got your acts together?” Hercules said in a tone that suggested it wasn’t exactly a question.

“Um....”

“All I’m saying is it’s about bloody time,” Hercules continued. “It was getting ridiculous watching the pair of you.”

“Oh.” 

Icarus didn’t think he had been quite that obvious about his attraction. The possibility that Pythagoras’ best friend had known for ages was not entirely comforting.

Jason had stopped staring out into the street and was watching Icarus with an unreadable expression. It made Icarus feel uncomfortable in a way he couldn’t quite put his finger on, and the possibility of questioning them about mind reading seemed even harder to broach than ever. 

“Oh, for the love of the gods, stop sitting there looking so worried,” Hercules said. He sounded exasperated, and Icarus couldn’t help wondering if he had picked that tone up from Pythagoras. “What? Did you think we’d disapprove or something? I happen to like you, Icarus, and I know how Pythagoras feels about you, so as far as I’m concerned you’re welcome here as much as you like.”

“Thank you,” Icarus said, trying not to sound as surprised as he felt by that pronouncement. 

There was a slightly awkward silence and Icarus tried not to fidget.

“So, is Pythagoras alright? How was he, when he got home?”

“Hungover, mostly. And annoyed that he didn’t manage to get laid.”

Icarus felt the heat in his face at that, as Hercules smirked at him.

“He said that?”

“Not in so many words. If you want my advice, not so much wine next time.” 

Now his face was burning so much Icarus was sure he was about to burst into flames. Actually, that wouldn’t be such a bad outcome if Hercules was going to keep talking to him about having sex with Pythagoras. 

Jason actually chuckled, though.

“Hercules, I don’t think he does want your advice. And for that matter, neither does Pythagoras.”

“I’m just sharing the benefit of my experience.”

“Really, please don’t.” Jason’s expression suggested he had been on the receiving end of far too many pieces of Hercules’ advice. It was actually the most animated, and cheerful, that Icarus had ever seen him. He wondered if this might be the side of Jason that Pythagoras cared so much for.

Since they were both in such a good mood, perhaps it might be worth trying again.

“But, apart from the hangover, was he okay? You didn’t notice anything... odd?”

Hercules frowned. “What like?”

“Oh, you know... anything...?” Icarus winced at his own ineptitude.

Hercules shrugged. “No more odd than he usually is.”

He was saved from any further awkwardness by the sound of movement from the other room. Hercules got up and went to investigate, and when he heard Pythagoras’ voice Icarus got up to follow. He got one step before he felt a hand on his arm, and turned to find Jason standing right there next to him.

“Icarus, be careful. Don’t hurt him.”

Jason looked utterly serious, and Icarus was too stunned to do anything but nod. 

As suddenly as he had grabbed him, Jason let go, and moved past Icarus into the main room where the other two were talking. For a second Icarus could only stand there, reeling at the warning. Had _Jason_ just given him the ‘if you hurt him’ talk? He’d half expected it from Hercules, but Jason? 

Icarus was still trying to get his head round it as he went into the main room to join them all.

Pythagoras looked up and smiled at him. He didn’t look a great deal better in spite of the fact that he had apparently been sleeping for most of the afternoon, although he did look quite adorably ruffled, Icarus noted.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon,” Pythagoras said, although he was still smiling so he probably hadn’t meant it the way it sounded. Probably. 

“I just wanted to make sure you were feeling better.”

Icarus was acutely conscious of Jason and Hercules watching and listening to the entire conversation. Maybe Pythagoras was right: there was far less potential for embarrassment if they spent more time at Icarus’ house than here.

“Much better now, thank you. A tonic and some breakfast did wonders, and sleep seems to have done the rest,” Pythagoras said. 

There was an awkward pause, and Icarus began to wonder if this had been a mistake. 

“Can we...?” he vaguely gestured in the direction of Pythagoras’ room. Pythagoras was possibly more awake than he looked, because he quickly caught on and led the way.

Icarus realised his mistake the moment he entered Pythagoras’ bedroom – there was no actual door, and even if the curtain was closed (which it wasn’t) it was likely the others would still be able to hear. With every passing minute he was sure he did not want to have this conversation right here and now. 

Before he could make any move to avoid it, Pythagoras wrapped him up in a hug, and held him tight.

_-m hungry again I wonder what food Hercules has left I bet he’s eaten all the cheese again it’ll just be the last of the bread and some olives no doubt I can’t face shopping today mmmmm Icarus is warm and cuddly I wonder if I can just stay like this for a while although really I’ve got way too much to do today I need to make note of that idea about triangles before I forget and we need to talk about the Messenian bandits being so close to the city it can’t be coincidence if they’ve thrown in with Pasiphae we’re all in trouble but I don’t want to worry Ariadne unnecessarily oh this is very nice I wonder why he’s really here I hope he’s not expecting anything energetic I don’t think I’ll be up for that today shit I still need to check Jason’s wound agai-_

Icarus patted his back and pulled out of the hug as gracefully as he could with Pythagoras apparently still trying to hold on and nuzzle his hair.

“Is everything alright? You seem worried,” Pythagoras said. 

Icarus glanced down at the bracelet, still tied around Pythagoras’ wrist. He forced himself to look up and meet Pythagoras’ gaze.

“No, it’s fine. Well, yes, I was worried. I just wanted to see if you were feeling better.”

At that Pythagoras’ expression melted into a soft smile. 

“I will be fine, Icarus. It was just a hangover. And I’m feeling much better than I did first thing. Enough to be slightly embarrassed at how useless I was this morning. And last night, for that matter.”

Icarus forced himself to smile. “We’ll know better next time.”

“I look forward to it.”

Pythagoras moved closer and slipped his arms around Icarus’ waist and leaned closer for a kiss.

_-ext time he wants there to be a next time well at least that means I didn’t completely fuck it up last night oh gods I am never drinking again yes this is good I love kissing him he is so pretty I don’t suppose there’s any chance I’m going to have time to work on my mathematical theories today now there’s too many other things to do I was so close to something before we got dragged off on that mission I’m sure there’s something important to do with right angles but if I even mention it Jason and Hercules are going to start with their usual shit and Icarus probably isn’t going to accept triangles as a viable excuse for not spending time with him gods I can’t think right now there’s too much-_

Icarus abruptly pulled back and stared at Pythagoras. They were kissing, and that was all that Pythagoras could think about? 

_-what’s wrong with him now why is everybody behaving so weirdly around me?-_

“Icarus, what is it?”

“Nothing.”

_-well that’s a bloody lie if ever I heard one gods I really can’t do this right now if it turns out that he’s just pissed off that he didn’t get laid last night I don’t even know wha-_

“Pythagoras, can we talk? Somewhere... private?”

Icarus indicated the open doorway and tried to keep his voice as steady as he could. 

“Of course. Did you have somewhere in mind?”

_-private? if he didn’t look so serious I’d assume he wanted sex but that is not the expression of a man who wants sex what if he wants to break up already I know last night probably didn’t go like he’d planned but it wasn’t exactly what I’d wanted either surely he knows tha-_

“Let’s just go for a walk and see where we end up.”

Icarus managed to untangle himself from Pythagoras’ arms and the thoughts were cut off in mid panic. If his own thoughts weren’t in such turmoil Icarus might have tried to be more reassuring, but then, Pythagoras was showing very little outward indication of what was going on in his head, so how could Icarus even broach it without admitting how he knew? Of course, that was the entire point of having come round here, but Icarus still had no idea how to admit the truth. And after what Jason had said... no, he couldn’t have that conversation here with Pythagoras’ friends listening.

They left the house with Hercules’ comment about not doing anything he wouldn’t do following them out of the door. Pythagoras rolled his eyes at Icarus and smiled, but Icarus could see it was not a genuine smile. 

He tried to walk far enough away to not come into physical contact, while staying close enough to not arouse suspicion. Given how tactile they normally were with each other, even before they had become a couple, this was easier said than done, at least at first. After about ten minutes, though, Icarus realised it was becoming easier to avoid brushing against Pythagoras. It took him another few minutes to realise that was because Pythagoras had moved further away. 

Icarus glanced at his face, and the obvious hurt in Pythagoras’ expression was almost enough to make him want to stop and gather Pythagoras up into a hug right there in the street. He had put that expression there. This entire bloody situation was his fault. 

This relationship was all Icarus had wanted for a very long time. Just things like this, walking together, talking for hours (although truthfully they had been doing those things together for a long time already), but now they were together there were other, more physical aspects to their relationship that they had barely even started to explore yet. They had been friends for so long that if he had thought about it all, Icarus had believed the transition from friends to lovers would have been easy. And yet, everything had started to go wrong almost as soon as they had actually become a couple. 

He couldn’t bear the thought that they were not fated to be together. Not after all this. 

Without really knowing where he was going, Icarus’ feet took him to the amphitheatre. When there weren’t any games or rituals taking place, the amphitheatre was open as a public space, and they found seats halfway up one side, away from the few other groups or individuals who were using it as a meeting place or down in the arena engaging in some weapon practice. 

“Icarus, have I done something wrong?” Pythagoras said without any preamble.

Icarus turned to look at him properly and found Pythagoras’ blue eyes watching him intently. 

“What?”

“Last night, when I was drunk. If I did something to embarrass or upset you I apologise. I’m afraid I do not remember much of what happened after the first lot of wine, but if I did something that you did not like please tell me.”

Icarus had been trying to decide how to admit the truth to Pythagoras, and was blindsided by Pythagoras’ apparent belief that he was to blame for the situation.

“No. No, Pythagoras, you did nothing wrong last night.”

“Then what is it? Ever since this morning you have been acting strangely, Icarus. You pull away when I am holding you. Sometimes you all but flinch when I touch you. I do not understand, Icarus. If it was not something that I did last night then why are you acting like this?”

It was the perfect opening for him to admit the truth. 

Instead he said, “I thought there was something wrong with _you_. You seemed distracted. You didn’t want to come out with me. I thought perhaps while you were away you had changed your mind about our relationship.”

Pythagoras’ eyes opened wider, and he moved closer and laid his fingers on Icarus’ arm.

“No, Icarus. No. If I gave you that impression I am so sorry. I never meant for that. Yes, I had many things on my mind last night, I still do now, but I did not intend for that to come between us.”

_-ank the gods I thought he wanted to end it is that all it was gods he is sensitive if he is going to react like this every time I have something else to think abou-_

“Your mission? Is that what you were worried about?” Icarus heard himself saying, trying to drown out Pythagoras’ thoughts before he heard something else he didn’t like. 

_-obsessed with the bloody mission I have told him it is secret why can’t he accept tha-_

“Yes, partly that. And also I must admit I was concerned about Jason’s injury. He was rather more reckless than usual and he lost more blood than I was happy with. That was also why I initially did not want to come out last night. I thought Jason needed rest, and I wanted to keep an eye on him.”

_-nd as soon as we have had time to talk to Ariadne properly about the bandits Jason is almost certainly going to volunteer us for yet another dangerous mission to deal with them no matter whether he is healed or not he won’t listen if I object to leaving the city again so soon because apparently his love life is the only one that actually bloody matters-_

It occurred to Icarus that last thought might have been something he wanted to pay more attention to, but by that point he was already speaking again.

“Truly? That is all?”

He hated himself a little for pushing, but he had to know.

Pythagoras gave him a soft smile. 

“Yes. That is all. I am sorry if I led you to believe otherwise.”

_-why the hell has he suddenly got so possessive and needy? he was never like this before when we were simply friends why does it have to be so complicated I don’t think I can do this if I’m going to have to spend all my time feeling like it’s a choice between Icarus or Jason and Hercul-_

It was probably a good thing Pythagoras moved his had from Icarus’ arm at that moment because it was all Icarus could do not to jerk away from his touch. 

Last night he had wished to know what was going on in Pythagoras’ head. Now he understood just how foolish he had been. He wondered if the witch was laughing at him. 

“Icarus?” Pythagoras’ voice was all concern and worry. 

Icarus couldn’t help thinking that what was really going on behind his words was no doubt something to do with wanting to get back to Jason. 

“Icarus? You do not look very reassured. Is there something else?”

“No.” He hesitated. “Yes. Yes, there is.”

If he didn’t do this now it was only going to get more difficult.

“Tell me.”

He forced himself to meet Pythagoras’ worried gaze.

“I am sorry, Pythagoras, but I think I have done something stupid. It was a mistake, a terrible mistake, and I would never have... if I had known I promise you I would not have done it.”

“Done what?”

“That bracelet with the amber bead. Can you take it off, please?”

Pythagoras’ face crinkled into a frown. He looked down at the band around his wrist and then back up at Icarus.

“You want to take it back?”

He sounded far more hurt by that than Icarus had expected. 

“Yes, but not in the way you are probably thinking.” He paused and forced himself to breathe. “I believe it may be cursed.”

Pythagoras’ eyes widened and he stared at Icarus for a moment. Then his attention focussed on the bracelet and his fingers began to tug at the knot. 

“Cursed? How? Why? Where did you get it?”

“An old woman gave it to me. I didn’t know at the time but I have since come to believe that she was a witch.”

“What will it do?” His voice was remarkably steady, but Icarus could hear the first hint of panic. 

Pythagoras was still fiddling with the knot tying the leather band around his wrist. He made a sudden frustrated sound.

“How tightly did you tie this, Icarus?”

“Here, let me do it.”

Icarus batted his hand out of the way and worked at the knot himself. It would be easier with two hands, and Pythagoras’ panic was probably making him clumsy. As his fingers brushed skin he caught fractured thoughts about somebody named Medusa, and a box, but mostly all he got was fear. 

“Icarus, what are you doing? Hurry up.”

“I can’t untie it,” Icarus said the moment he realised it. The knot refused to yield even though he knew he had not tied it particularly tightly the night before. Icarus hesitated and then pulled out the small knife he carried. 

“Keep still. I think I need to cut it off.” He glanced up at Pythagoras and tried to give him a reassuring smile. “I will be careful.”

Pythagoras nodded and held his arm out, his fist clenched.

Several minutes of sawing and working at the leather band and the thin cord that tied the ends produced no noticeable effect. By the time they admitted defeat Icarus was beginning to panic almost as much as Pythagoras.

“It truly is magical,” Pythagoras said, staring down at the leather band. He looked up at Icarus. “What curse do you believe is upon it? What... what is it going to do to me?”

“To you, technically nothing.” Icarus paused and breathed before he made himself say it. “It allows me to hear your thoughts.”

There was a moment of silence.

“That is not possible,” Pythagoras said. 

“It is the only explanation I have been able to come up with to explain what I have been hearing. It... It doesn’t work all the time. It only works when we are in direct physical contact with each other.”

For a moment nothing happened. Then Pythagoras very deliberately moved his arm away from where he had been holding it out towards Icarus. 

“You can hear my thoughts when you touch me?”

Icarus didn’t like the way his voice sounded. He had never heard that tone in Pythagoras’ voice before. It sounded like he was precariously balanced on a thin line between calm and rage. 

“I believe so, yes.”

“Why? Why would you do this to me?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose. I didn’t know what it would do. The old woman... I didn’t know she was a witch. She tricked me. She told me it would help me to understand you better, that was all. I swear I didn’t know what it would do.”

“You have been able to hear my thoughts ever since you put this on me.”

“No, only since this morning.”

“If it truly was an accident, why did you not tell me as soon as you realised? Why have you waited this long to say anything?”

That was the question Icarus had been dreading. He had hoped Pythagoras would not think to ask it, in amongst everything else that must be going through his mind right at that moment.

He remained silent too long, and it gave Pythagoras time to realise something else Icarus had hoped he would not.

“All those questions about the mission. You were deliberately trying to lead my thoughts, Icarus. You... this wasn’t an accident at all. You wanted this. You have been using this power all day to pry into my mind.”

His voice was starting to shake. 

“No,” Icarus shook his head. “No, please believe me I did not intend this.”

“Do you even understand what you have done?” Pythagoras’s voice was becoming louder with every word. More angry. “You went inside my mind, Icarus. No one should be able to do that, not to anyone. Certainly not to someone they claim to care about.”

“Now you are the one who doesn’t understand,” Icarus heard himself saying before the line of reasoning had fully formed in his head. “That was the reason why I did it. Because I care about you. Because I don’t know what you want. I don’t know how to make you happy. I just wanted to make our relationship better.”

He knew it was a mistake as soon as the words left his mouth. 

“You could have _asked_ me. You could have _talked_ to me.”

“I tried, Pythagoras. And every time I tried you cut me out and fobbed me off and gave me half truths and blatant deflection.” Now Icarus could hear anger in his own voice as well. 

“So instead you use witchcraft on me?”

“No! Not on purpose.”

“If that is true why didn’t you tell me this morning? Why didn’t you tell me when you came round to my house? Why wait until now?” He hesitated. “Icarus, you have no idea how much I want to believe that it was an accident. But that would be so much easier to accept if you had told me straight away.”

“I didn’t understand what was happening at first. And then I tried to find the witch. I thought-” he stopped when he realised he had absolutely no idea what he would have done if he had actually found the old woman. 

That was when Pythagoras’ brain came round to the thought that it had taken Icarus several hours to realise.

“Is it just you? Or can anyone hear my thoughts when I am wearing this bracelet?” His voice was now quiet, controlled. It sounded far more dangerous than the near shouting. 

“I think it’s just me.”

“You _think_?”

“When I was talking to Hercules and Jason they didn’t mention anything odd, and I’m sure you must have come into contact with them when you got home.”

“But you don’t know for sure.”

“I tried to ask them. That’s why I came round to your house. I had the same thought and needed to find out if it was just me.”

Pythagoras rested his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands. Icarus started to reach out, an instinct reaction, but caught himself at the last moment.

“Do you have any idea what you have done, Icarus?” Pythagoras looked up at him again. “I am a trusted operative of the queen. If this gets out, it will put us all in danger. Me, you, Ariadne, Jason.”

Icarus felt a sudden surge of anger. 

“Of course, we mustn’t let anything happen to your precious _Jason_.”

Pythagoras became very, very still. 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Like you don’t know?” The words tumbled out before Icarus could stop them. “You say you want me, but all the time you are thinking of him. When we are together, even when we are _kissing_ , Pythagoras, your mind is thinking about Jason, and Hercules, and your missions for Ariadne, and even bloody triangles. The only thing you are _not_ thinking about is me!”

“That... that is not true!”

“It is. I’ve _heard_ it, remember. What am I, really? Am I just a... a _pretty boy_ that you enjoy kissing when you’re not too busy with all the other more important things in your life?”

“If that is what you think then this thing really is cursed, because you are not hearing what is truly in my head.”

“Why should I believe that when I know you have been lying to me all day? Why should I trust you when you say you want me?”

“You dare talk to me about trust after what you have done?”

Pythagoras stood up and looked like he was going to say something else. Then he just shook his head and walked away. Icarus was so surprised he had to run to catch up. He caught Pythagoras’ sleeve, and the man whirled round and snatched his arm away.

“Don’t bloody touch me,” Pythagoras snarled. 

Icarus stepped back. He had never seen Pythagoras look at him with such anger, hatred, in his eyes. 

“Pythagoras-”

“No. I don’t want to listen to you any more. I don’t want to see you. Stay out of my way until I work out how to fix this mess, Icarus. Just... just stay the hell away from me.”

He walked away, and Icarus let him.


	3. part 3

The next two days were amongst the most frustrating and miserable of Icarus’ life. After Pythagoras had left him at the amphitheatre, he had spent the rest of the day, and much of the day after, searching the city for any sign of the witch who had caused all of this. He spoke to market traders and gate guards and anyone else he could think of. He did eventually manage to find a couple of people who remembered seeing the old woman and her stall on the night of Aphrodite’s festival, but they could tell him nothing else beyond that fact. 

By the time he had exhausted all avenues of inquiry, all Icarus knew was that no-one had any idea who she was or where she had come from. 

The more Icarus thought about that night, though, the more he could not understand the old woman’s motivation. Why would she do it? She had given him what appeared to be a powerful magical item for a derisory amount of money. Where was the gain in that?

His memory of her exact words was already fading, but Icarus was sure she had alluded to Aphrodite, and made it seem like a kindness in the interests of helping his relationship. But she had _not_ told him what the bracelet would do, and with hindsight Icarus suspected that was because she had known it would actually lead to the exact opposite of helping their relationship.

But if she had intended it as a cruel joke, why did she not stay to watch and enjoy the chaos she had caused? And why him? Was it simply because he had fallen and disrupted her stall? If so, he couldn’t help feeling the punishment was far in excess of what his ‘crime’ had warranted. He had heard tales of witches and their cruel tricks, the way they manipulated people. Perhaps it was that simple.

As arbitrary and unfortunate as that was, Icarus began to think it might actually be the preferable option to the only other theory he could come up with. Icarus knew that he himself was unimportant, but Pythagoras _was_ important. He associated with heroes and royalty, he was trusted with great secrets, he was a great hero in his own right, no matter how much he protested otherwise when Icarus mentioned it. Icarus was certain that Pythagoras had a great destiny, and his actions were already having an impact on the destiny of the city of Atlantis. 

If the witch had known the identity of his love, then it might not have been arbitrary at all. Icarus was certain that he had not mentioned Pythagoras by name when he had been talking with the old woman. But if she was a witch she might have known already. She might have known all about both of them. She may even have used her magic to lure him to her stall, rather than the random accident Icarus had believed it to be. If the target truly was Pythagoras, then Icarus had walked right into her trap and done everything she wanted of him. 

The problem was, he had absolutely no way of knowing which option was anything like the truth. And even if he did know why it had happened, that still didn’t answer the rather more important question of how to stop it.

On the third day, Icarus went to the library. It was not a place he frequented often, academic research was not his strong point at all, but his father had sent him often enough that he knew his way around, at least. Still, he was wary of directly asking the library keepers where they kept the scrolls about magic and enchantments, so it took him rather longer than he had expected to find the correct section.

When he did finally locate it, he walked around a shelf stack and found Pythagoras. He was sitting on the floor cross-legged at the far end of the row, scrolls piled up on either side of him, and one unfurled on his knees that he was reading intently. 

Icarus simply stopped and stared. It was the first time he had seen the man since the amphitheatre, although he had walked past his house a couple of times. He told himself he was just checking that everything was still normal, rather than the rather more pathetic truth that he just wanted to see Pythagoras, even if he couldn’t be with him.

Pythagoras must have sensed he was no longer alone because he looked up and their eyes met. Several expressions spasmed across Pythagoras’ face before he managed to settle on something neutral.

“I was just...” Icarus gestured vaguely at the shelf of scrolls. “I wondered if there might be a way to break the enchantment.”

Pythagoras nodded. “I thought the same.”

“Right.”

Icarus cringed. He couldn’t remember a time when their conversation had been this awkward. 

He turned to the shelf next to him and picked up the first thing he found. He had no idea what this shelf even contained, but it was as far away from Pythagoras as he could be without actively going to a different row. 

“Don’t waste your time,” Pythagoras said. “I have already been through all of those.”

“Oh. Of course.” Icarus put the scroll back. 

He turned back to Pythagoras, but he had already turned his attention back to the scroll and was not looking at Icarus. Icarus could still hear the last words Pythagoras had said to him in the amphitheatre echoing in his head, and knew the best thing he could probably do right now would be to honour that and just leave. But he couldn’t. 

He moved closer, but stopped as soon as he saw the tension in Pythagoras’ body.

“Are you alright?” Icarus asked. “Has anything changed, or...?”

“Nothing has changed since the last time we saw each other.”

Icarus wasn’t sure whether that was supposed to refer to the situation with the bracelet, or Pythagoras’ feelings towards him. A tiny part of him that still felt angry and bitter couldn’t help thinking the ambiguity in Pythagoras’ answer was deliberate.

“There are no ill effects?”

“Not that I am aware of.”

Pythagoras hadn’t actually looked up at him at all while he had spoken, and Icarus knew a dismissal when he saw one. He was more than used to that from his father.

He debated whether to push it, but in the end simply said, “I will let you know if I find anything.”

With that he turned and walked away. Of course, he realised the problem almost immediately, in that he needed to be in that section to research magical enchantments. Was there another angle he could approach it from? 

What if it wasn’t simply witchcraft? He seemed to remember the old woman being very insistent that he give the bracelet to Pythagoras that very night, when the goddess’ powers were at their greatest, or something. He eventually found himself the section about religious festivals, and spent the next couple of hours going through everything he could find about Aphrodite and her powers. 

He knew it had been a long shot, but even so he was disappointed by the lack of anything even remotely useful by the end of the morning. Aphrodite was powerful indeed, but he found very little about cursed items, and nothing at all about being able to see into people’s minds. 

He was still trying to decide what to research next when his stomach reminded him it was lunchtime. He eyed the shelves and decided now was a good time to take a break and get something to eat, and maybe by the time he finished he would have thought of something else to approach. On his way out, he paused briefly at the end of the row about magic and witchcraft. Pythagoras was still sitting exactly where he had left him, although the pile of scrolls around him had grown even larger. He was so engrossed he didn’t even look up from his reading. Icarus was about to say something, but then decided against it and moved on. He wasn’t sure he could stand another conversation like the one earlier.

Icarus found the nearest market stall selling pastries, and sat on a wall eating and thinking. Perhaps he could research bracelets in particular; see if there was any significance behind the item itself. Now he thought about it, amber was an unusual choice for a jewellery stone anyway. The irony was that the stone really did go with the blue colours that Pythagoras seemed so fond of, and that brought him back to wondering if it had all been planned from the beginning. What was it Pythagoras had been worrying about from his recent mission? Messenians? Perhaps that was another line of inquiry.

It occurred to him that Pythagoras might have already covered all of this. He had probably thought of everything, and researched what he didn’t already know. He always was the one with the brains. But still, perhaps there was a chance Icarus might see something Pythagoras had missed. A small chance, but a chance nonetheless.

Icarus brushed the crumbs off his tunic, intending to go back to the library, when he had an idea. He went back to the pastry seller and bought another one, the sweetest honey flavoured pastry he could find, and then shoved it in his bag before heading back to the library. He suspected they would not be pleased about food near the scrolls. 

He wasn’t even remotely surprised when he found Pythagoras exactly where he had left him. 

“Pythagoras,” he said, stopping a few paces away. 

Pythagoras looked up, confused. 

“I brought you lunch,” Icarus held out the pastry. “I know what you are like; you are as bad as my father for forgetting to eat when you are engrossed in studying.”

Pythagoras looked momentarily startled, and for a second Icarus wondered if he was going to be refused. Then Pythagoras put his scroll aside and took the pastry with a grateful look.

“Thank you. I hadn’t even realised what time it was.”

He stretched his legs, and Icarus wondered if he had even moved from that spot on the floor for the last hour, except to collect more scrolls.

“Have you found anything useful?” Icarus asked. He knew he was pushing his luck, but it was just too strange, the two of them being here in the same place and not talking to each other. 

Pythagoras nodded, his mouth too full of pastry to speak at first.

“I have found many, many useful things for a variety of circumstances. Unfortunately none of them are even remotely helpful for the current problem.”

“Oh.”

“You?”

Icarus shook his head. “Nothing useful. I have spent the last few days searching for the old woman, but it seems she had vanished.”

“That does not surprise me.”

Pythagoras fell silent again, possibly because he was too busy eating, but Icarus couldn’t help wondering if it was just a sign that he wanted the conversation to end. At least he seemed less openly hostile now, even if it was nothing like the usual tone of their interaction. 

This close, he could see that Pythagoras looked exhausted. Icarus wondered if he had been sleeping as badly as Icarus had recently.

“It is just you,” Pythagoras said with no preamble. 

Icarus was honestly confused.

“What do you mean?”

“Only you can hear my thoughts. I have tested it thoroughly on both Hercules and Jason, and it seems they remain completely unaware of what is going on in my head.”

“That’s good,” Icarus said with a relieved smile. Then he thought about it for a second longer. “Well, it’s not good, nothing about this is good, but I only meant, it’s good that it’s not everyone, I didn’t me-”

“I know what you meant,” Pythagoras interrupted. There was the faintest hint of an amused smile as he spoke.

Icarus wasn’t sure if it was that smile, or the fact that Pythagoras had actively stopped him from babbling and digging himself into an even more embarrassing hole, but right at that moment he felt an absurd surge of hope.

Nothing more seemed to be forthcoming, though, and eventually Icarus backed off. 

“I’d better get back to the research.”

“What are you on now? Just so we do not waste effort by duplicating subjects.”

“Amber, I think.”

Pythagoras glanced down at the bracelet around his wrist, and nodded. 

“Not an angle I had considered. It’s worth a try. Let us hope one of us finds something soon.”

Icarus headed off towards the section on stones and their properties, but this time he was sure he could he could feel Pythagoras’ gaze on him until he was out of sight.

 

_Amber, sacred stone of Apate._

Icarus paused and re-read that. Apate. He frowned in thought until he eventually dredged up a memory that Apate was a minor goddess, something to do with tricks, perhaps. She was not one of the major gods worshipped in Atlantis, nor had she any special links with the city, so Icarus had to admit he knew very little about her. 

But he could think of someone sitting not very far away who might know. 

He took the scroll with him back to the section on enchantments and found Pythagoras sitting there with his elbows resting on his knees, and his fingers rubbing his forehead. 

“Pythagoras, what do you know about-” He paused. “Are you alright?”

Pythagoras glanced up at him and sighed. 

“I have been staring at scrolls for so long that the words are no longer making sense, but apart from that I am fine. What were you asking?”

“The goddess Apate. Do you know anything about her?”

Pythagoras’ brow crinkled in thought for a moment. 

“Minor deity linked with deceit and tricks, I believe, although I confess that one is a little obscure even for me.” He gave Icarus a curious look. “Why do you ask?”

“Amber is her sacred stone. It might be a coincidence...” he trailed off as something else in the scroll he was holding caught his eye. “Or it might not be.”

“Icarus?”

Icarus waved the scroll he was holding at him.

“Damn it! She didn’t mean Aphrodite at all!”

“Icarus, what are you talking about?”

Icarus started to pace as he put his thoughts together. 

“The old woman told me that I had to give you the bracelet that very night. She said it was something to do with the goddess’ power being at its height. I had assumed she was talking about Aphrodite’s power, as it was her festival, but what if that wasn’t it at all? The more I think about it, the more I cannot remember her mentioning Aphrodite by name, she simply said ‘the goddess’. Amber is the sacred, magical stone of Apate. It says something here about how her powers are linked to the moon. The old woman was wearing a pendant with a moon symbol.”

“The moon? I believe I have read something about magical powers and the moon in one of these scrolls,” Pythagoras interrupted. He started going through the pile beside him, unrolling scrolls and tossing them aside until he found the one he wanted. “Yes, here. Magic spells of trickery are most powerful if performed when the moon is new, when its light is hidden and darkness hides true intentions.”

“What phase was the moon on the night of the festival?” Icarus couldn’t remember, but he knew Pythagoras had far more interest in astronomy than he did. 

“I’m not sure. I don’t remember seeing it at all, and it is currently a crescent. I believe it may have been new moon that night.”

He looked up and their eyes met in understanding.

“You believe this woman may have been a priestess of Apate, and not a witch?” Pythagoras asked, although it came out sounding more like a statement than a question.

“She may have been both. It makes more sense. And she certainly deceived me.”

“How do you mean?”

Icarus came over and sat down a little way from Pythagoras. This was rapidly becoming a conversation he did not want to have while looking down on him.

“When I try to remember too many details of my conversation with her my mind becomes fuzzy. She gave me a drink that made me... I don’t know. I didn’t want to talk to her about what was wrong, or why I was upset, but every time I thought about getting up and leaving, instead I just started talking, telling her things. Personal things. About...” he felt himself flush and could not look Pythagoras in the eye. “About how I feared that you did not truly want me.”

He heard a sharp intake of breath.

“Icarus-”

He shook his head. “I was angry. I was upset. I believed that you would rather spend the night dedicated to the goddess of love with your friends than with me. What was I supposed to think, Pythagoras? I know that does not excuse what I did afterwards, but I think the old woman gave me a drink that made me more... susceptible, I suppose. And when I revealed my fears to her, she twisted my words.” He stopped and swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat. “I think I did something stupid, because I said to her that I was afraid because I did not know what you truly wanted. I said something about how I wished I knew what was going on inside your head. And then she gave me something that would do just that.”

“Oh, Icarus. Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”

“Would you want to admit to any of that? To being so pathetic that you allowed yourself to be taken in by an old woman and reveal your deepest fears?”

“You were not simply ‘taken in’ if she used magic on you.”

“Perhaps.” He forced himself to look Pythagoras in the eye. “But that still does not change the fact that I made the choice to give you that bracelet. I knew there was a chance it might not be entirely normal, but I did it anyway. She swore that it would not harm you, I wouldn’t have accepted it if I thought for a minute it would do that, but I suppose I didn’t really think it through. She was telling the truth about that; it technically wasn’t directly dangerous, or harmful to you. The only thing that _actually_ hurt you was me.”

Pythagoras watched him, his throat working but there were no words.

“I’m sorry,” Icarus said, his voice quiet.

Pythagoras nodded.

There was a silence that was not entirely awkward for a few moments. 

Icarus breathed deeply and tried to get control of himself before he spoke again.

“All of this is very well, but it does not help us to resolve the actual problem.”

“Perhaps not. Although I wonder if the power of the enchantment is tied to the moon, then it might be at its weakest when the moon is full. We could try again to remove the bracelet then.”

“You don’t sound terribly convinced by that,” Icarus felt the need to point out.

“To tell you the truth I am not. In my experience, and since I met Jason I have had rather more experience of this than I would like, the only way to remove a spell or curse has been to force or bargain with the person who placed the curse to remove it, or to kill them. Since we do not know where this witch or priestess or whoever she is has gone, we can do none of those things.”

That was pretty much what Icarus had feared. Hearing Pythagoras confirm it was in no way comforting.

“As long as the bracelet continues to have no other effect, then I suppose it is not the end of the world if we cannot remove it. Although...”

“Although that would mean we could never touch one another again.” Pythagoras sighed. “Let us hope it does not come to that. It is not a prospect I find particularly appealing.”

That little flicker of hope Icarus had felt earlier flared again at Pythagoras’ words. He wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve it, but the thought that Pythagoras’ instruction to stay away from him was no longer his last word on the subject was enough to lift him from the despair he had been feeling for the last few days. 

Pythagoras dragged himself to his feet and stretched. Icarus, somewhat shamelessly, took the opportunity to appreciate the view, and offered a slightly sheepish smile when Pythagoras caught him looking.

“At least today hasn’t been a complete waste. But I think I’ve had enough for now. I should get home, before Hercules starts to complain about the lack of dinner.”

“Can’t he cook his own for a change?” Icarus asked as he too picked himself up.

“That possibly depends on whether I want to find the house on fire when I get home or not.”

Icarus actually chuckled at that, and helped Pythagoras pile the scrolls back onto the shelves before they both headed out onto the street into the relative cool of the early evening. They paused in the street before they went their separate ways, and for a moment Icarus thought that Pythagoras was about to hug him. He saw the moment when it registered in Pythagoras’ eyes that hugging was no longer advisable, and the fact that Pythagoras looked about as unhappy about that as Icarus felt was in no way comforting. 

“If I think of anything else I will let you know,” Pythagoras said. “We will find a way to fix this.”

“I won’t stop until we do.”

He watched Pythagoras until he disappeared round the corner at the end of the street. Then Icarus turned and walked the opposite direction. He was not going home just yet. There was one other option he needed to try first.

 

Icarus had lived his entire life in Atlantis without ever once going to see the Oracle, so he did not really know what to expect as he descended the staircase into her underground chamber beneath the temple. The atmosphere down here was thick and warm, and he shivered as he was reminded of the old woman’s stall with her heavy incense that had so clouded his senses.

The Oracle was kneeling beside a large bronze bowl with her back to him, and Icarus wasn’t entirely sure whether he should speak to attract her attention or wait for her to finish... whatever it was she was doing.

The silence had almost become uncomfortable when she finally turned to look at him with an expression that looked a lot like impatience.

“You have a question for the gods?”

“Yes.” Icarus stepped closer. “I need to find someone. A witch. Or priestess, I’m not entirely certain. We believe she worships Apate, goddess of deceit and tricks. She has put a curse upon my friend and I need to find her to remove it.”

“Why does your friend not come to me himself?”

“The curse was my fault. I should be the one to fix it.”

The Oracle turned back to her bowl and swirled the liquid that Icarus could now see filled the bowl. 

“You are a man of science. You know nothing of magic and curses. Even if you do find this woman, how will you know what to do to break the curse?”

Icarus came closer again.

“Can you tell me?”

“How can I tell you what you want to know, when you do not even know what question it is that you want to ask?”

Icarus willed himself to remain calm. His father had told him that the Oracle was often vague and confusing, and best approached with extreme caution, and Icarus was starting to see what he meant. But no matter how infuriating she was, she was also touched by the gods, and therefore probably not someone he should shout at.

One question, then. One straightforward, plain question where his meaning could not be twisted. That was how he had got into this mess in the first place. 

“Please. Just tell me how to find the woman who has put a curse on the man I love.”

The Oracle looked up, and he could have sworn he saw the corners of her mouth turn upwards into a smile for a moment. 

“You will find her by going back to the beginning.”

He frowned. 

“What? What does that mean?”

“It means you have your answer.”

The Oracle stood up and walked into the darkness beyond the columns, leaving Icarus even more confused than ever.

 

He was so deep in thought as he left the Oracle’s chambers and wandered through the temple that Icarus did not see the other man until he spoke.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t punch you in the face.”

Icarus looked round. Jason glared at him. On another day, Icarus might have even been intimidated, he had heard all about Jason’s exploits in the arena, after all, but right now he honestly didn’t have it in him to care about that as well. 

“Because Pythagoras will probably be pissed off if he finds out you’re fighting his battles for him.”

Jason glared at him a moment longer, and then abruptly relaxed.

“You’re probably right. Doesn’t mean I don’t still want to hit you, though.”

“Noted.”

There was a somewhat awkward silence between the two men.

“Aren’t you even going to ask how he is?” Jason said in a somewhat accusing tone.

“I don’t need to. I saw him in the library not more than an hour ago.”

Jason looked oddly deflated by that. It was almost funny; strictly speaking they both wanted the same thing – to protect Pythagoras – and yet the possibility of him and Jason seeing eye to eye looked as remote as ever.

Icarus sighed. 

“Look, whatever Pythagoras has told you, or whatever you think of me, I didn’t do this on purpose. I would never hurt Pythagoras on purpose.”

“Maybe not. But you seem to be doing a bloody good job of hurting him by accident.”

Icarus really couldn’t bring himself to argue with that.

“I know,” he said, his voice quiet.

Whatever Jason had been expecting, it probably wasn’t that, and he looked slightly awkward for a moment.

“I saw you coming from those stairs. Have you seen the Oracle? Was it about this cursed bracelet?”

“Yes.”

“Was she helpful?”

Icarus shrugged. “Honestly? No, not really.”

Jason actually gave a small chuckle at that. “Welcome to my world,” he muttered.

“She said to go back to the beginning. The beginning of what?”

“The beginning of that day of the festival?” Jason suggested. “The beginning of the situation?”

“That would be either my house or your house. I doubt the witch is hiding in either of those places.”

“What about when you got the bracelet? Surely that was the beginning?”

“I’ve already done that. That was the very first thing I did when I realised something was wrong. It was just a temporary stall set up for the festival; it was all gone by the next morning.” Icarus paused. Thought. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Oh, I am an idiot,” Icarus said, more to himself than to Jason. “I know exactly where she is.”

“Icarus, where? What are you talking about?”

“Jason, do me a favour, and go tell Pythagoras I know where she is, and I am going to sort this out.”

“Icarus, wait. Where are you going? Do you need backup?”

But Icarus was already running. 

 

It was dark by the time he got to the street where the old woman’s stall had been. The building was the same as any other on that street, the doorway just as nondescript. But now Icarus remembered the door behind the stall had been open. That was where the old woman had produced the drink from. And if the door was open, that meant that this doorway led into the building where she was. 

Icarus glanced up and down the street, already emptying of people, and tried the door. He was actually surprised when it opened.

It was dark inside, there were no windows on the ground floor that he had noticed from the outside, and just inside the door there was a thick curtain that blocked any sight of what lay beyond. Icarus slipped inside and pulled the door almost closed behind him, and then sneaked to the edge of the curtain and peered around.

There was no one in the room, but it was warm and lit with candles and an oil lamp that stood on a stone plinth.

Icarus moved into the room and got a better look around. There were wall paintings and tapestries, many depicting the moon in all its phases, and totems and bones and strips of cloth and things he couldn’t even recognise hung from the walls and ceiling so that he occasionally had to duck his head to avoid them. He moved over to the stone plinth and realised it was an altar of sorts, with a small carved amber female figurine and a polished bronze disc etched with swirling symbols and a crescent moon behind her. 

The goddess and the moon. 

“Come to pay your respects to my mistress in thanks for the great gift she bestowed on you?”

Icarus spun round. There was a woman, not much older than him, standing in a doorway at the far side of the room that he had not seen because it was half hidden by a tapestry. She wore a long dark robe, and as she came towards him he saw the pendant with the crescent moon around her neck.

It suddenly occurred to Icarus that he had no sword. The only weapon he had on him was a knife, and that was in his bag.

“Who are you?”

“I’m hurt you do not recognise me,” she gave him an exaggerated pout. “But then, I suppose you don’t really notice women, do you, Icarus?”

“You are the woman from the stall? How?”

“A simple disguise spell. Untrained minds are so easy to deceive.” She smirked. “So tell me, Icarus, what are you doing here?”

“I want you to remove the curse on the bracelet.”

“Why would I do that? You came to me with a sad story, and I gave you everything you asked for.”

“I never asked for that. You twisted my words. You used a potion on me that made me tell you all those things.”

“Were any of them untrue?”

“That’s not the point.”

“It’s exactly the point. You may not have specifically asked for it, but I gave you what you _wanted_. You didn’t trust the man you claim to love, you wanted to know whether he was telling you the truth. Are you happy now? Now you know what he _really_ thinks of you?” 

“You know I’m not, otherwise I wouldn’t be here. That bracelet wrecked our relationship.”

She turned on him with a glare. 

“No, Icarus, you did that all by yourself.”

Icarus felt like he had been slapped in the face. The woman stalked over and looked him up and down.

“Why are the pretty ones always so stupid?” she said with a sneer.

There was a sound behind him and they both turned to see the curtain flung aside as Pythagoras raced into the room, panting for breath.

“Don’t touch him,” he growled at the woman.

The woman didn’t look in the least bit threatened. She pointedly looked him up and down the same way she had Icarus only moments earlier.

“So this is the man you were so keen to keep? Quite a pair. Pretty but stupid, and manly but, well, not so pretty.”

“That’s enough,” Icarus snapped. He wasn’t entirely sure which one of them he was defending, but he was sick of the woman’s dismissive tone.

“Ooh, bit braver now he’s here to defend your honour.”

Pythagoras snorted at that. 

“Hardly.” He turned on Icarus and glared at him. “You really are an idiot, aren’t you? I told you to wait, but you had to come blundering in like a stupid puppy, same as always.” 

Before Icarus could do more than open his mouth, Pythagoras walked over and grabbed his arm and yanked him away from the woman.

_-trust me and go along with this Icarus I don’t have time to explain but you need to trust me and you need to fight me and we need to make it look real-_

Pythagoras was staring right at him, and Icarus’ eyes widened when he heard the very deliberate voice in his head. 

Then Pythagoras hit him.

He knew immediately that Pythagoras had pulled the punch, but the blow to his belly was so unexpected he doubled over with a cry.

Pythagoras shoved him past the woman and further into the room, and followed him.

“You can’t do anything right,” Pythagoras spat. 

He grabbed Icarus’ shoulder and shook him. 

_-trust me and do this she has to believe it Hercules and Jason are on their way we just need to distract her and stall for time-_

Icarus could see the woman watching with an amused expression, and didn’t dare to acknowledge what Pythagoras was telling him. Instead he flung a wild swipe at Pythagoras’ face and felt it connect with his chin. Pythagoras swore loudly at him and punched him in the stomach a second time, the blow almost completely swallowed up by the banded leather he wore over his tunic. Nevertheless Icarus staggered back again, and wrapped an arm across his stomach as Pythagoras advanced on him again.

“Stupid, useless idiot. She was right about that part.”

Icarus snarled and swung at him again, his blow glancing off Pythagoras’ shoulder.

“That’s not what you said when you were moaning into the pillow last week.”

Pythagoras’ eyes widened almost comically and he shoved Icarus against the wall and held him there.

_-for fuck’s sake I do not need that image right now what the hell was that about-_

If it were possible for thoughts to have a tone of voice, Icarus would have put that down as amused and quite possibly intrigued. Now that was a thought to hold onto for later.

A sudden shriek interrupted right at the point Icarus tried to ram his knee into Pythagoras’ stomach without actually doing any damage. From the slight grimace on his face it wasn’t entirely successful, but they both looked round to see Jason had grabbed the woman from behind and had his sword held to her throat.

Pythagoras breathed deeply and let go of Icarus. 

“Thank the gods, I don’t know how much longer I could have kept that up.” He turned round properly and looked at Jason. “You took your bloody time.”

“Sorry, had to drag Hercules out of the tavern.”

The woman was staring at Pythagoras and Icarus with an expression so surprised it was comical.

Pythagoras turned back to Icarus and held his hand out to pull Icarus upright again.

_-and don’t think we won’t be having a conversation about that comment later when this is sorted out-_

He let go as Hercules staggered in, gasping for breath with a sword in one hand and a flagon in the other.

“Right,” Pythagoras said, advancing on the woman. “I believe Icarus was saying something about you removing the curse on this bracelet.” He held his arm out. “Please.”

“What makes you think I’ll do that? Your friend can threaten me as much as he likes, but we all know if he kills me you’re stuck with it.”

“I think you’ll do it because we just managed to completely deceive you, and you fell for it. That’s what you’re all about, isn’t it? Deception, trickery. You’re going to do it for us, because we have earned it.”

Icarus moved to stand beside Pythagoras. He had never seen Pythagoras like this before, so completely confident and in charge of the situation. Was this what he was like when they went on all those adventures and missions? If Icarus wasn’t so busy trying to keep up with what was going on he would probably have found it something of a turn on. 

The woman seemed to be studying Pythagoras rather more intently than the dismissive way she had when he first arrived. Finally she inclined her head a touch.

“Call off your bodyguard and you have a deal.”

Pythagoras looked at Jason and nodded, and Jason let go, but he didn’t step too far back. 

The woman simply untied the cord tying the band around his wrist and it dropped to the floor with no ceremony. Icarus wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but that just seemed somewhat anti-climactic after all the stress of the last few days. 

“Is that it?” Hercules asked. He was leaning heavily against the wall and apparently still trying to catch his breath. 

“Not quite,” Icarus said. 

Pythagoras gave him a surprised look, but didn’t question him when Icarus went to Hercules and indicated the flagon. 

“May I borrow that, please?”

Hercules gave him a pained look, but handed over the flagon, and Icarus took it back over to the altar. He met the woman’s gaze, and poured an offering onto the altar.

“Thank you.”

“Be more careful, Icarus,” she said. 

He followed Pythagoras and the others out onto the street, her words still in his head. 

As soon as they were a little way down the street, Pythagoras stopped and took Icarus’ hand. 

“What?” Icarus said, returning Pythagoras’ intent stare with a confused look.

“What are you doing?” Hercules asked.

“You didn’t hear any of that?” Pythagoras said to Icarus.

He finally got it. 

“No. I couldn’t hear anything I shouldn’t have been able to.”

Pythagoras nodded. “I needed to check.”

“And you’re just going to take his word for it?” Hercules pressed. There was only a little accusation in his voice. Icarus couldn’t really blame him.

“Trust me, if he’d been able to hear what I was just thinking there would have been more of a reaction.” 

Icarus was glad it was dark, because he had a horrible feeling he was suddenly quite flushed. He glanced down and realised Pythagoras was still holding his hand. After a moment Pythagoras seemed to notice as well, and let go with a slightly embarrassed cough.

Hercules just looked from Pythagoras to Icarus and back again.

“Are you coming home, or are you two going to sort yourselves out and put everyone out of their misery?”

After all the bravado and confidence, Pythagoras suddenly seemed unsure. Icarus was about to tell him to just go home with his friends, when Pythagoras came to a decision.

“You go on. I’ll see you later.” He was talking to Jason and Hercules. 

Icarus’ stomach churned, because he was in no way ready for this conversation, but he was in no position to object. He was pretty sure both Hercules and Jason levelled particularly warning looks at him before they left, and then Icarus was just standing there on the street with Pythagoras with absolutely no idea what the hell to do now.

“Come on.” Pythagoras touched his arm and started walking, pausing long enough to make sure Icarus was with him.

It was barely anything, but that casual touch made Icarus’ heart skip. He had feared he might never have that again. 

“I’m sorry about the fighting. And the things I called you. You know I didn’t mean any of that, don’t you?” Pythagoras said. “I hope I didn’t actually hurt you?” 

“I am fine. Did I... are you alright?”

Pythagoras grimaced. “You need to work on pulling punches, but yes, I am fine. I’m just glad it worked. It was the only thing I could think of, and to be honest the entire plan was thought up on the fly in the time it took me to run over here. It possibly wasn’t my finest strategic hour.”

“It was far better than my plan. To be truthful, I’m not even sure I had a plan.”

“You were fine. And good thinking with the offering to Apate at the end there. We met the priestess on her own terms and bested her, and left on reasonable terms. Nobody died. It’s about as good an ending as we could have hoped for, considering.” 

Icarus nodded, but he couldn’t help thinking that while it might be a good resolution for the situation, it was not necessarily so good for their relationship. 

“Although,” Pythagoras added. “I have to ask: ‘Moaning into the pillow’? _Really?_ ” 

He threw Icarus an incredulous look.

“I was surprised,” Icarus protested. “I had to think of something after what you’d been calling me. Otherwise she might not have believed it.”

Pythagoras rolled his eyes, but he looked amused more than anything else. Amused and, if Icarus was reading it right, not entirely averse to the idea. Icarus tried to quell the thoughts that went with that mental image, although in truth, whenever he had entertained such thoughts he had always imagined their positions the other way around. 

He looked away and tried to think of something else. Right now he was not even sure that either position was ever going to be an option for them. 

They walked in silence for a few minutes until something occurred to Icarus.

“Wait, how did you know where to find me? I didn’t tell Jason where I was going.”

The look Pythagoras threw him could only be described as smug.

“Alongside all the danger and fighting, there are occasional benefits to being associated with Jason, one being the ability to get a straight answer out of the Oracle when the situation is sufficiently urgent.”

“A straight answer out of the Oracle? I didn’t think that was possible!”

“Stick with us long enough you might even see one for yourself.”

Icarus tried to keep another flare of hope under control, but it didn’t escape his attention that Pythagoras had said, ‘us’. He knew it didn’t necessarily mean anything more than friendship, but still. 

They eventually found themselves at Icarus’ house. Daedalus glanced up and actually looked surprised when he saw the two of them. Icarus braced himself for the comments and teasing, but his father must have seen something that told him now was not the time, and he simply greeted them both and then went back to whatever he was working on. 

Pythagoras was the one who led the way to Icarus’ bedroom, and closed the door behind them once they were there.

“So, now what?” Icarus asked. Much as he didn’t want this conversation, he didn’t want to drag it out either.

Pythagoras hesitated. He looked like he wanted this conversation about as much as Icarus. 

“I can’t say I am not still angry about what you did, but after what you told me in the library I think I understand the reasons behind it rather better than I did when I first found out. And the fact that you were also probably under a magical influence does mitigate it somewhat.”

“But you were right; I should have told you as soon as I realised what was happening.”

“Yes, you should.”

Pythagoras sighed and ran his hand through his hair. 

“That said, I have come to realise that perhaps you were right about one thing. I have been prioritising other people, and other things, over you, and I don’t think I realised just how much I was doing that until you pointed it out.” 

Icarus held his breath. 

“I’m not saying I will abandon my other responsibilities for you; I can’t and I won’t do that. Hercules and Jason are my friends, my family, and they are important to me. And I can’t honestly say that I won’t have to drop everything and leave the city at a moment’s notice sometimes.” He stepped closer and took Icarus’ hand. “But, you are important to me as well, just as much as my friends. This relationship is important. I will try, Icarus. I can’t promise I will always get the balance right, but I will try.”

There was no stopping the flare of hope now. Not after that. But he had to know for sure what Pythagoras meant.

“You still want us to be together?”

“Yes. If you will put up with me, then yes.” Pythagoras offered him a slightly nervous smile. 

There was only really one possible answer to that. Icarus cupped Pythagoras’ cheek in his hand and leaned closer. Pythagoras met him halfway and they kissed, soft and gentle and undemanding. 

Icarus felt arms wrap around him and tug him closer, preventing him from moving away. As if he ever would. 

When they finally parted Pythagoras’ smile was so heartbreakingly beautiful, Icarus wanted nothing more than to hold him forever.

“That is a relief,” Pythagoras said, his voice quiet. “The thought of never being able to do this with you again has made the last few days almost unbearable.”

Icarus kissed him again, because he could think of no answer to that statement. He knew exactly what Pythagoras meant, though.

“Can I ask you something?” Icarus said when he finally managed to tear himself away.

“Of course.”

Icarus felt a smirk beginning to tug at his lips. 

“Do you _ever_ stop thinking about triangles?”

Pythagoras flushed an interesting shade of pink.

“Occasionally.”

Icarus couldn’t help laughing at that. 

For no obvious reason, Pythagoras seemed to be turning an even deeper red. Then he leaned closer and whispered in Icarus’ ear.

“I’m pretty sure if you put your mind to it, you could _make me_ stop thinking about triangles.” 

Icarus grinned. He did like a challenge.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [understand my thoughts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6614428) by [ideare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ideare/pseuds/ideare)




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